


The Coming Storm

by Benfrosh



Category: Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: M/M, as peace turns to war, the ike/soren is mostly at the end but it's there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 02:38:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7023700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Benfrosh/pseuds/Benfrosh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bastian searches for the Greil Mercenaries to hire them for an important task.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Coming Storm

At last, with the sun starting to set behind him, Count Bastian was nearing the town of Yewroot. A small fishing village on the coast of the Oribes, the gulf that separated Daein and Crimea, in the duchy of Felirae, it was home to a few hundred villagers who primarly made their living from fishing from the bay. Its most 'famous' feature, in the reports Bastian had obtained from his information network, would be the local pottery, which was sold both in Crimea and Daein. Such a quaint out of the way place would normally be completely unnotable. And yet it was here Bastian had been lead in his current quest.

As Bastian walked up the last hill between him and his destination, he thought back on what he knew about Yewroot. During the war, Yewroot had quickly fallen to a surprise naval invasion by Daein forces. Rather than go to the hassle of occupying it, most of it was burnt to the ground and opened up to form a military camp for the Daein soldiers. While the docks were kept intact to land more troops, the village was a desolate waste. ... Or so Bastian had been told during the war. And yet, as he crested the final hill to gaze upon the town proper, he was able to confirm with his own eyes the latest reports he had received - the village, rebuilt better than before, with construction in progress as well. Bastian knew from his briefings that the reconstruction efforts had prioritized the more highly populated areas first and foremost. There were even other ports in Felirae that were currently siphoning most of the money allocated to reconstruction, so Bastian found the idea that Duke Ludveck could be behind the reconstruction impossible. That left only one suspect in Bastian's mind, as he quickened his pace down the grassy slope and into the town. On the outskirts he spotted a large building whose placard identified itself as "The Fisherman's Rest", and Bastian decided to begin his investigation there.

Quietly opening the inn door so as not to make a ruckus, despite himself, he looked around the room as he stepped in. The place was lively; he had probably entered during suppertime, and no one had yet noticed his entrance. Quite different from his usual time at court, but that gave him time to survey the area. He wasn't quite sure what he hoped to see yet - and then he found it. A flash of red, sitting at the bar. He had only met one person yet on the continent with such fiery tresses of hair, and it confirmed his suspicions. 

\---

Titania was sitting at the bar, finally enjoying a moment to herself. She had been running herself ragged over the course of the day. The last couple of weeks had been focused on getting the village back in shape, so people could move back in, but now the focus was rebuilding the fishing industry so the people could survive once more. And that had meant boats, and lots of them. Titania's part had been in assembling the materials all the shipbuilders needed, including pulling cords of lumber from the stockyard herself when everyone else had been working on boat assembly. Even just pushing her horse to the limit like that exhausted her, let alone all the additional lifting. So now she sat at the bar, nursing a pint of ale and wishing the pain in her muscles away. At least no one was bothering her for once.

"Hello there, Titania! You look just as radiant as last we met," Bastian proclaimed as he sat down next to her, a large grin on his face and his long dark cape flowing behind him. 

Titania sighed. "Hello, Count Bastian."

"You know," Bastian continued with a chuckle, "for a mercenary company, you and yours are awfully hard to track down." The bartender came over to Bastian to check on the new visitor before Bastian waved him off. 

"What can I say? We've been busy," Titania replied curtly, focusing on her drink. 

"Quite obviously, at that. This town was in no shape for such festivities," Bastian said with a wave around the room, "as recently as last month. And yet here we are now, and I think I know exactly who's responsible for such a radical transformation."

Bastian's steady gaze was getting harder and harder to ignore, and Titania finally turned away from her drink to look him in the eye. "So what's up? I imagine this isn't just a courtesy visit."

Bastian laughed a deep hearty laugh. "Ah, if only there were time for such things! But as time marches onwards, so do our deadlines approach ever closer, and indeed, my task is a pressing one. I wish to hire the Greil Mercenaries for a most delicate situation."

"Well, delicate's never exactly been our specialty," Titania replied with a shrug. "Don't you have spies for that?"

Bastion's gregarious air disappeared, and his face turned solemn. "I fear my usual allies may not be enough, in this case. It's quite possible that this may require a firm hand by the end of it."

Titania paused, unsure of how to answer. Finally, she took a sip from her drink, before responding: "Well, if you want to hire us, Ike and Soren are upstairs, room farthest on the right. Just knock and they should let you in."

"Fantastic!" And like a candle being relit, the flame of Bastion's heart leapt back into his face. "Then I shall be off to discuss with them. Farewell, my lady, and may we have the pleasure of chatting once more in luxurious times." Bastian stood up from his chair, and with a swish of his cape departed Titania to head for the stairs to the inn's rooms.

Titania let out one more sigh. "If it's not one thing, it's another," she muttered as she turned back to her drink.

\---

Ike thought carefully before he resumed writing once more. He and Soren were sitting on the edge of their bed, relaxing before hitting the hay. Soren was poring through some tome of arcane knowledge, leaning his head on Ike's shoulder, while Ike was updating his journal. He had gotten into the habit along with Soren a few months back; it was a relaxing way to end the day, and it helped him sort through his thoughts for the next day. They never were particularly big thoughts, but he was thankful for that. The war had been a big and terrible thing, and he was enjoying the peace he had with Soren and the rest of the Greil Mercenaries. As if to reassure himself of Soren's presence, he put down his pen and reached with his free hand to ruffle Soren's hair. Soren made no response, which Ike knew meant he was enjoying it.

Reconstruction had been tough. After the incident with Duke Ludveck a few weeks back, Ike had decided to give up on formal court support. His goal was to help the people of Crimea, and he was going to do it any way he could. The Greil Mercenaries were all behind helping him (except Shinon, but the grump had come with Ike anyways), and he knew in his heart he was making the right choices. But seeing so much destruction and devestation... it reminded him of the cost of war. It was never the people behind the war who suffered, it was the people of the countries who were caught in the crossfire. And seeing them hurt and suffering... it reminded him of those he had lost. And the ones whom he never wanted to fail.

As Ike was thinking to himself, a knock came from the door. Soren sat up straight, and Ike shouted at the door, "Come on in, it's unlocked." 

The door opened, and Bastian entered the room, cape trailing behind him as he swiftly stepped in. Ike pushed himself up from the bed in preparation to stand up, but before he could, however, Bastian motioned at him to stay at ease. "I do not mean to interrupt your relaxation, my dear Lord Ike," he said, "merely to take a few moments of your time to discuss a most vital matter." 

"Go on ahead, then, Bastian. And you can drop the Lord bit," Ike said, shaking his head. "I'm no noble now. Pull up a chair so we can talk."

Bastian laughed as he pulled up a chair to the bed from the small table in the sparsely furnished room. "Oh, Lord Ike, one can not so easily discard nobility. Queen Elincia has bestowed upon you a peerage, and I must acknowledge the fact." Soren, head still down focused on his book, briefly glared at Bastian. Ike couldn't tell if Bastian had noticed, but Soren was definitely not trying to keep his displeasure at Ike's 'title' hidden.

Trying his best to smooth it over, Ike replied, "Well, setting that issue aside for now. What brings you around here? Can't imagine this is part of your usual routine to come to a little village far from your county."

Bastian grinned. "Indeed it isn't, Lord Ike-" he said before being interrupted by daggers shooting from Soren's eyes. Ike internally groaned, but at least Bastian was getting the point. With a quick cough, Bastian recovered from his momentary shock, continuing, "Ike," trying to hide his discomfort at dropping the honorific, "I actually do happen to be here for my own purposes. I intend to set out for Daein by day's end," he said with a smile returning to his face, "but my primary goal first and foremost was to find you. I wish to hire the Greil Mercenaries for a serious mission. You remember the Duke of Felirae, Ludveck?"

Ike nodded. "All too well. A real jerk."

"An opinion which was made most obvious when you punched him square in the nose," Bastian said with a laugh.

Ike blushed. "Could you not bring that up? It's a bit embarrassing, honestly."

"Regardless, Ike, it is a fact that it happened, and one cannot ignore the truth. Much like one cannot ignore the truth of what's to come." Bastian's face turned dour, and he leaned in conspiratorily to Ike. "Duke Ludveck plots treason."

Ike's face blanched.

"I have no solid proof as of yet, but I believe he is plotting to overthrow the Queen and claim the throne for his own. As of yet, I do not know who is backing his nefarious plot, or the exact details. As such, I have no choice but to turn to a party I know to be completely trustworthy in this regard."

Ike nodded. "That'd be us, alright. What do you need us to do?"

"For now, nothing direct. Until he acts, we have no proof he has committed a crime. And if we assemble such proof before he acts, you may need to do nothing. But if worst comes to worst," Bastian said, shaking his head, "I fear for the Queen's safety. That is where you must come in. In case things seem to be at their darkest, and the Queen is pushed to her limits, you must intervene. Hopefully things will not reach that point, but if they do, I am relying on you to ensure the country does not fall into chaos once more."

Soren suddenly slammed his book shut and placed it to his side, causing Bastian to jump. "How much will you pay?" he asked, as calmly as if they were negotiating a dinner plan.

Bastian collected himself once more before replying. "Ever the mercenaries, aren't you?" 

Ike shrugged. "It is in the name, after all."

Bastian nodded. "I suppose so. I am prepared to pay thirty thousand gold for your services monitoring the situation and stopping a civil war if necessary."

Soren shook his head. "Forty thousand. And an additional ten if we are to be engaged in full military operations."

Bastian laughed once more. Ike could barely believe the constant enthusiasm Bastian was filled with. "A fair price indeed! Here, then, is your first payment. Twenty thousand gold, with the rest once I return from Daein." And from an interior pocket he pulled a bag bulging with valuable coins, and threw it onto the bed next to Soren.

As Soren took the gold and stood up to put it away, Ike reached out his hand for Bastian to shake. "Whatever you're up to, Bastian, stay safe. We'll take care of things here."

Bastian clapped his hands together on Ike's proffered hand, giving it a firm shake. "You have no idea how it pleases me to hear that from you, my dear Ike. And now," Bastian said as he stood up from his chair, twirling his cloak around him, "I must bid you farewell! Hope that we meet again." Bastian swiftly left the room, the door closing gently behind him. And with that, the storm that was Count Bastian had departed once more.

\---

Soren, having put away the gold in the Mercenaries's war chest, returned to sit next to Ike wordlessly. Ike sighed, massaging his temples. "Looks like war's coming up on the horizon again." At that, Soren leaned into Ike, burying his face in the crook of Ike's neck. Ike reached around to give Soren a hug. "Don't worry, Soren. We'll do what we can to stop it, okay?"

Soren took a deep breath. "I'm scared, Ike," he whispered. Ike hugged him tighter, his muscled arms giving their all to support Soren. "I'm scared you're going to get hurt. It seems foolish in retrospect, but... I hoped that, with the war over, we'd get to enjoy peace. Stability. I was... getting used to it."

Ike felt Soren's small gasps of breath on his neck. He lowered his mouth to Soren's ears, whispering back, "Well, that's what we've got everyone for, you know? We all look out for each other. And I'll look out for you, and you'll look out for me."

Soren clutched Ike's shirt in his hands. "Please don't leave me again, Ike."

"You got it." And Ike gave him a kiss on his head.


End file.
